


All Things Considered

by Lady_Of_Paper_7



Series: One of these days [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending - Avengers, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Minor Injuries, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16106105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Of_Paper_7/pseuds/Lady_Of_Paper_7
Summary: “Who are you?”, Peter finally found his voice again and it felt like sand and gravel spilling from his tongue and chapped lips, “Where am I? What did you do to me while- What happened and where’s Mr. Stark?”It seemed like once he’d managed to croak out the first question, a dam had broken down and a whole row of questions were spilling out from behind it. No sooner had the last one left his lips, did Peter try to push himself into a sitting position but once again, but cool hands gently kept him in check.“I am a … close friend of Anthony Stark if you will"-------Once, just this once, Peter did not bring his suit along with him and of course that had to be time, he finally caught up with the would-be-villain he'd been trailing for weeks.





	All Things Considered

**Author's Note:**

> Setting: This is set after "The Avengers" and "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" but does not have anything to do with any other post-Avengers-movie.
> 
> Tony Stark found about Peter's trying to be a superhero and took him under his wing.

Darkness. Everything was darkness and darkness was everything when Peter Parker’s eyes blinked open and were not met with either the sight of the sky and sun nor any room’s ceiling. Impenetrable, unyielding, utter darkness and blackness.

That was the first thing that came to Peter’s attention after he’d woken up - at least he thought it was. Truth be told, now that he was aware that he couldn’t see and scrambled to check whether the rest of his senses had abandoned him as well, one, among other thoughts, he had was that he could not exactly pinpoint the moment he’d come to, the moment oblivion had passed and ended. Maybe, he’d been awake or ages – both figuratively and metaphorically speaking – and had just not noticed that he’d crossed the threshold of conscience already, not being able to see the difference once he’d opened his eyes. Just to be sure, he consciously blinked several times, to check whether sight would return after all and he, in his confused state, had simply not opened his eyes already.

It made no difference. All around him remained the dark, pulsating, non-color of the backs of his eyes, apparently not caring that it ought to have vanished when his eyes had opened.  

Panic started welling up in his chest, strangely dully – it felt more like slow, heavy waves rolling over him than the sharp lightning that usually cursed through his veins, starting in his chest and spreading through the rest of his body. It threatened to overtake him just the same. Everything just seemed so slow and fuzzy and only after several additional minutes the thought that he should feel strange, angry, freaked out about the fact that his senses only now started returning, in the most painfully slow way nevertheless, took shape.

Peter forced himself to try and calm down, or direct his thoughts away from freaking out, as even that worked as fast as the laptop he’d fished out of his neighbor’s dumpster a couple of weeks ago and had not gotten around repairing yet – thinking of; he still needed to pick up the spare parts Ned had mentioned he had laying around somewhere in his room. The only problem was that every time he set out to visit his friend, something came up - be it a group of pickpockets that went about snapping the straps of old ladies’ handbags right of their shoulders while they weren’t looking or a cat-family that had taken residence on top of a high pillar and now couldn’t get down again. Would-be-super-villains who had gotten their hands on several surprisingly potent poisons had been a first though…

His heart thumped in his chest irregularly and he felt his breath catch in the back of his throat, gasping despite himself. He tried to even his breathing, keenly aware that laying on his back whilst being weighed down by something and not able to see a glimpse of a single thing or face – anything, working himself into a panic attack would do him no good at all. Finally, he managed to calm his breathing down and that was when he finally noticed a soft pressure on the top half of his face, especially around his eyes.

“What the…”, he mumbled sluggishly, attempting to bring his hands up to his face and feel over whatever it was that was clinging to it.

Even his movements felt painfully slow, like he was moving through thick mud or maybe even one of his own nets that slowed each of his movements down as he made to move his hand in front of his eyes and touch whatever it was that blocked out his sight. His hands trembled when he realized that he wasn’t wearing his mask or his suit. How could he not have noticed that? Especially with not Karen talking to him as she should have been doing in a situation like this although-

“Please do not do that just now”, a soft voice told him off and he froze immediately.

His thoughts were racing to come up with a way to get to his feet and into something that vaguely resembled a fighting stance from where he lay now but he doubted that he would be able to pull off any kind of complex movement, never mind one fast enough to efficiently protect himself or fight, any time soon. All the time, his ears tried to pick up something that might help him determine where he was, but he could neither properly hear, smell, feel or of course see anything that would help him with that, except for the voice.

There was something oddly familiar about it too, but he could not, for the life of him - and at that thought he gulped, hopefully inaudibly, because that phrase had suddenly become a lot more literal than he would he liked - think of where he’d heard it before. It belonged to a man, of that at least he was sure, and he didn’t sound old. Still, he was probably rather aged around 30 than 20 and Peter thought he’d picked up on a slight accent. English, maybe? It didn’t fit perfectly - there was something else, something not exactly exotic but rather like an unfamiliar melody clinging to the words. It was the closest fit he could come up right now though.

A cool hand closed around Peter’s wrist and gently guided his hand downward to come to a rest at his side. His own fingers had not stopped trembling since he’d first brought them up.

“I am not completely sure, whether your wounds have fully healed up yet and I’d rather not risk taking the bandages off too soon.”

“Who are you?”, Peter finally found his voice again and it felt like sand and gravel spilling from his tongue and chapped lips, “Where am I? What did you do to me while- What happened and where’s Mr. Stark?”

It seemed like once he’d managed to croak out the first question, a dam had broken down and a whole row of questions were spilling out from behind it. No sooner had the last one left his lips, did Peter try to push himself into a sitting position but once again, but cool hands gently kept him in check.

“I am a … close friend to Anthony Stark if you will and you are currently in one of the guest rooms of his villa in Malibu”

Which close friend? Peter new Pepper and Rhodey, Happy and the rest of the Avengers and if that man, for Peter was sure of that at least, was as close to and important to Mr. Stark as he’d clamed, surely Peter had heard or read something of him, right?

The voice went on anyway; “I took care of your injuries while you were unconscious - You got hurt, as you may or may not have gathered for yourself already”; the voice added just as Peter tried to decide whether rolling his eyes behind the gauze was worth the effort.

“Whoever you are, I like you better than-”, Peter came to a halt as he groped for a name but the harder he tried to concentrate, the further did his thoughts stray and soon he felt completely lost and confused., “some people, I guess”, he finished in a hollow voice.

“Don’t worry about that, your body went through a lot since yesterday and-“

“What do you mean yesterday? I tracked that guy this afternoon and caught up with him around 4 – how long was I out?”

“A little over a day”

Even underneath the bandages, Peter could feel the color drain from his face.

“May’s going to kill me”, he moaned, trying to get up once more but a hand on his chest kept him in place.

“She thinks you are attending a conference with Anthony this weekend and will return tomorrow evening. He called her as soon as we were sure that you were alright – would you please lay down again?”

“Alright”, Peter mumbled, slumping back against what felt like about a thousand pillows - because, really, what else could he do with the guy there? He chose to ignore the hand that stayed on his chest, grateful for everything that grounded him in reality as his senses slowly started returning to him.

“So anyway”, he started again, biting his lip and trying to hide the tremble in his voice with a laugh and failed miserably, “I’m not permanently blinded right? I mean, you wouldn’t be so calm if – wait a second”; he paused, dread settling in the pit of his stomach like a lump of ice.

“You will be perfectly fine within an hour or two, maybe less”, the voice gently cut him in and Peter released his hands from the fists he’d balled them into without realizing it at first, “as I tried to explain earlier”, Mr. Stark’s friend didn’t sound genuinely annoyed as much as amused but that faded as he went on.

Because apparently, Peter had gone after an, up until then, unknown biochemist who had cooked up several gallons of various kinds of poisons and acids and taken to driving around Queen’s back alleys a couple of weeks ago and emptying bottle after bottle over the homeless men and women sleeping in the streets in the afternoons. No victim had been lethally wounded yet, but they would keep the scars and burns they’d taken away from this, the pain and trauma that had been inflicted onto them not to mention.

No one had any idea why he’d done it, but they were working on making the man talk. Everyone involved was especially motivated after he’d used some of these substances on Peter, had sprayed him with a can of what had turned out to be highly potent poisonous gas before Peter had managed to pin down both his arms with his nets.

In of itself that would probably not have been that big a problem, had Peter not – for the first time since Mr. Stark had given him the suit – not carried it with him when he’d gone chasing after the guy. The only thing offering a minimal amount of protection had been the hood of the sweater he’d pulled over his head.

He’d only wanted to get a chocolate bar or something to motivate himself to write his paper in Geography which he had to get an A on and not taken his whole rucksack with him for the two-minute trip to the shop around the corner of his and his aunt’s apartment block. That had been the reason that all he’d had with him when he’d noticed the guy’s truck, which he’d been tracking for days, out of the corner of his eye and had went after him, had been a handful of loose change and the emergency wristband which he could use to send a distress call to Mr. Stark and had had to promise him to never ever take off.

“He sprayed me with bug-spray”, Peter now groaned, remembering.

He wanted to bury his face in his hands but guessed that that was probably not the best thing to do at the moment. It all came back now; how the guy had whipped out that stupid, bright red can, had aimed it right at Peter’s face while he’d tried to tie him to the bottom of a streetlamp and had sprayed him with it, “He told me so himself, knew that ‘Spiderman’ had an eye out for him and cooked it up specifically – Don’t tell Mr. Stark, please”,  he added as an afterthought and winced at the silent snort he got for an answer;

“Neither you nor I really believe that he is going to give this whole affair a rest until he knows every last detail, right? And I am sorry, but I certainly won’t be the person who tries to interfere with that or-“

“Alright”, Peter pulled up his shoulders as if that could remove the bad taste from his mouth and the heat rising to his cheeks – he could have avoided the whole drama by simply not being too lazy to bring his back pack with him and then get overwhelmed by a nearly fifty-year-old man with a can of glorified bug spray (of all things) and who, just to top things off, went under the name “Dr. Clean-Streets”. He could already hear the lecture Mr. Stark was going to give him and he gulped at the thought of his suit, the hours they’d spent together tinkering in Mr. Starks workshop and the chance to finally prove himself being taken away from him.

That however paled in comparison to the guilt that had started creeping up on him since the last answer he’d gotten from Mr. Starks friend; one of the first things Peter had learned about Tony Stark had been that he tended to work himself up about certain things and Peter getting himself seriously hurt and/or in danger definitely counted among them.

“Sorry”, he whispered into his own shoulder.

A soft chuckle made him tilt his head back though, “don’t apologize, child. At least not to me of all people”

“…I’m almost 16”, Peter felt he needed to point out.

“Yes”, Mr. Stark’s friend said after a short pause, sounding if not as indignantly as Peter, at least as confused, “I am aware of that”

“And I can take care of myself”, Peter continued, mentally putting brackets around the latest development in his hero-career, “I’m not a child”, he concluded when he didn’t get another answer. He’d lost count over how many times he’d said that during the last months.

“Where IS Mr. Stark?”, he eventually asked kind of timidly when the silence stretched on and he couldn’t even tell whether it was because he’d somehow angered the other or something else.

“He’s still resting two doors down the hall – I made him lay down and …take some sleeping medication yesterday evening. He had not left your side since he’d taken care of the ‘doctor’ but he kept dozing off. He will probably be back here within the next hour I’d wager”

“You some kind of god or something? ‘cause I’ve never heard of anyone make Mr. Stark do anything against his will” except maybe Ms. Potts.

“Maybe”

“Why didn’t you tell me your name?”, Peter went on.

He tried not to pay attention to the fact that he still didn’t have his senses back properly but with every movement they continued recovering and he thought he picked up something in the hesitant silence that followed.

“The Avenger-initiative is not exactly relishing my… _relationship_ with … _Mr. Stark”_

Peter could have sworn that he’d paused before he’d said ‘Mr. Stark’ and that he’d said it with the faintest touch of mockery.

“I simply was your best shot at recovering without any long-lasting damage to, for example, your eyesight.”

“So, you’re a doctor like Dr. Banner?”

“I most certainly am not”, he’d snapped before Peter could hear him take a deep breath and click his teeth before he continued speaking, “my apologies; I do have a rather strained relationship with Bruce Banner”

At this point, Peter could almost hear the bells that had gone off in the back of his head since they’d started talking – he just couldn’t quite put his finger on what they were trying to tell him, but he was sure he was close to figuring it out. Mr. Stark’s friend apparently thought so too and didn’t seem to share Peter’s anticipation as he cleared his throat and changed the topic again.

“Anthony”, he started, and Peter could almost see him bite his tongue in the silence that followed. The sigh that ended it however, he did not have to imagine, “- he told me a lot about your progress and really everything concerning you during the last months-”

“So, you’ve known Mr. Stark for months already”, Peter interrupted eagerly.

“For a couple of years now in fact”, came the answer and Peter was sure it was accompanied by a raised eyebrow.

He bit down on his bottom lip at that; Mr. Stark had introduced him to most of the really important people around here; ‘here’ being the Avenger’s Team and everybody being involved with it after Peter had concluded the basic training he’d been put through.

Peter had thought that maybe, he had not met this man because Mr. Stark had not known him for too long and didn’t want to bother or feel inclined to have Peter meet every contact he made straight away but apparently that was not the case. He didn’t even know why he cared so much about not having been introduced to or even told about this man - there just had been something about the way he spoke of Mr. Stark and now the fact that Mr. Stark told him all about Peter, that made Peter think that this ‘close friend’ did play a rather important role around here and he wondered - if this was the case – why he had never heard of this man, not even in passing.

 

\-------

 

Loki carefully lifted his free hand from the boy’s chest and, as quietly as he could brought it, palm first, down against his face and forehead and buried his face in it. Had he become so rusty within the hand full of years he’d spent living with Anthony Stark that a few simple questions of this boy succeeded in leaving him flabbergasted and tripping over his own words like an awkward youth?

Over the last months, it had become apparent, how close his lover had gotten to Peter and vice versa but Loki had not really expected himself to have to actually care about the boy – as long as he was fine, and Tony therefore not worried about him, like he’d been during the first weeks after he’d resented Peter with the suit he’d made for him, which the god remembered all too easily. Tony had poured over it for hours on end every day, only stopping when Loki had darted into his workshop at regular intervals, snuck up behind him and very softy eased the tools out of his oil-slicked hands and guided him to their bedroom to sleep or rather collapse against the pillows after having been awake for 40 hours on end.

He had been with Tony when he’d received Peter’s distress-call as well and had seen the change that had went about his spouse within a couple of seconds himself; all color had drained from his face, his breathing had sped up almost immediately and – for a split second – his whole body had gone rigid while his brown eyes had gone wide. They had only needed to exchange two words to get moving; “Where to?” and they’d come from the god of mischief who’d teleported them to the address Tony had read of the notification while his suit assembled itself around him.

He had taken care of the ‘doctor’, whom Peter had successfully trapped with is webbing, cans and bottles till stuck to his hands, while Loki had crouched down next to the boy and wiped away the topmost layer of acid and blood that covered his face and upper body with a careful re-phrasing of an old spell. That being done, he had teleported back to the villa on Malibu and one of the spare bedrooms closest to theirs, taking Peter with him.  

There, he’d removed every last trace of the spray itself from the pores of his skin and set on undoing the damage it had already inflicted on the outer layers of skin and more importantly his eyes, nose and mouth, where the skin had turned to a sickly, glistening red and had still been weeping watery blood. All in all, it had been easy work but dull and slow; the main reason he had bothered with the bandages after all had been the fact that the areas that had been damaged and healed again, remained rather sore and of an angry red-tone for hours after he’d finished the actual healing and the fact, that Peter would not be able to see and recognize his face whilst being blindfolded of course. Applying a dab or two of the healing-tincture he stored among other bottles and boxes filled with herbs and solutions on a dresser close to their bed, and checking on his eyes to make sure there would be no long-lasting damage had seemed to be the best thing to do and by the time Tony had charged in, eyes still wide and harassed looking, Peter had thoroughly been taken care of and Loki had taken residence at his side.

In fact, as Tony had entered the room he’d been greeted with the sight of his lover, sitting cross-legged on the bed with his upper body leaning back against the headboard and with Peter’s head resting on several small pillows in his lap, the rest of his body curled up slightly around the god’s bent legs. Loki had slipped one arm beneath Peter’s back and the other one lay across his chest, efficiently holding him close.

“He kept thrashing in his sleep. I figured… making him feel secure might help”, the god had whispered once his lover had edged close enough, his expression meander between confusion, worry and something that vaguely resembled amusement. In this bedroom, painted and decorated in various shades of white and light blue, the dark gray fabric of his under suit looked almost black.

“Definitely looks like it”, once he’d had reached the foot of the bed, Tony had cleared his throat but his voice still came out somewhat sore – he had done quite a lot of yelling during the last two hours, especially at the ‘doctor’ who had actually put on a smug face as he’d asked whether the Avenger’s “Pest-problem” had been solved once and for all, with his help and everything.

That had been on the day before. A day which Loki had spent fluctuating between Tony’s and Peter’s bedsides, once he had managed to talk his spouse into finally laying down for a couple of hours. It had usually had been like this: he’d stayed with one of them, either curled around or against Tony or cradling Peter’s upper body in his arms and brushing back the streaks that kept falling into his forehead until Jarvis notified him that the other was freaking out in his sleep or throwing himself around amidst the sheets, at a time crying out in his sleep or not able to make a sound and gasping for breath. Only then he’d switched rooms again, merely stepping out to pick up new bandages for Peter or to splash water into his face in the en suite bathroom.

Loki himself could have used a nap - or at least a couple of hours of not using his powers to speed up the last bit of healing or simply radiate a somewhat calming effect around the two sleeping humans - as well but a little over a day had passed until Peter had stirred again, for now at least looking fine and recovered. Yet, that also meant that now, after the chat they’d been having, Peter had, kind of awkwardly asked why he lay cradled in Loki’s arms and the god was more than glad, that he had not unwrapped the bandages from around the boy’s face yet. He’d rather not deal with the fifteen-year-old realizing who exactly had sat with him and smoothed down his hair with the tips of his fingers when he’d cried out in his sleep.

“Anyway-“, Loki now said and made to carefully move Peter off his legs but stopped when he felt him go stiff for just a second, reluctant to loose the physical contact before Peter became aware of this and let himself be manhandled, cheeks flushing in the faintest shade of pink.

Yet, Loki had, when he’d noticed the boy’s reluctance, carefully tugged him close again and had placed the hand that was not supporting his upper body down on his chest again without a word, right next to his heart. He figured that Peter was slowly getting over the initial shock of waking up blindfolded and with a stranger telling him about his latest fail of a mission, but it was obvious that he was still rather tense and nervous and didn’t necessarily want to be on his own just yet.

“Can you take those off yet?”, Peter changed the subject and made to touch the bandages again, his fingers hovering above the gauze by a hair.

“I’d rather leave them for a bit longer”

Until Tony would have come back and would distract Peter while his lover quietly slipped out of the room. He could come up with an explanation of who the man that had taken care of Peter had been exactly and Loki could go on living with Tony in private and with no one actually knowing about their relationship. He had thought about changing his appearance while he’d sat with Peter and tended to his wounds and waiting for him to wake up, but Tony had told him to forget it when he’d suggested it.

Don’t get the wrong idea; Tony _loved_ Loki’s magic and the fact that he was also one of the most capable shapeshifters of the nine realms. He always got a kick out of the god performing magic, be it as small as making a cup of coffee zoom towards him rather than getting to his feet to go pick it up. He had a problem with Loki shapeshifting to hide form people out of fear or awkwardness though and told him so regularly. Sometimes Loki even listened and remained himself despite him feeling that some situations would be easier avoided than dealt with. The main reason for that consisted in the fact, that he thought that Tony’s protectiveness and insisting was sweet and – in fact – it was happening more often as time went on.

“-angry?”, he now caught the end of Peter’s question, blinked and shook his head a little in an attempt to clear it before asking him to repeat it, please.

“Was he – Mr. Stark – really angry?”, he asked again, even more quietly than the last time and Loki couldn’t help himself but chuckled softly; “he was beyond furious”, he didn’t pause as long as he’d originally planned when the boy gulped loudly, “at the man who hurt you – he was exceptionally lucky that you had caught him and made it impossible for him to run before we had arrived; I am not sure he’d ever be physically able to speak of any attempted escape if Anthony had gotten a chance of pursuing him.”

He’d wanted to say ‘lived to tell the tale’ but Peter had gone so pale while he’d listened, the god couldn’t bring himself to put the picture so clearly into his head.

“I’m sorry”, Peter whispered again, balling his hands into fists again and gulping down a shaky breath, “I swear, I didn’t mean to do anything, especially without the suit- that was the first time I didn’t have it with me- god I’m so stupid. Mr. Stark’ll take it away from me again and he’ll be right that I don’t deserve to-“

His voice had grown more and more strained as he’d talked and as he neared the end of the last sentence, it cut off entirely as a dry sob clawed its way up his throat and past his thin lips.

This was probably the last time he’d see, well meet, Mr. Stark or any of his friends in person, Peter realized, and his heart started beating faster and faster; he had really messed up this time.

“Hush, child”, Loki cut off his attempt to continue speaking and gently touched his fingers to the areas of Peter’s face that weren’t wrapped up in gauze, carefully stroking the tips of his fingers over the hot skin that grew wetter when the fist tears dripped down from beneath the bandages.

This Time, the boy did not argue about the way he was being addressed. Instead he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to force his breathing to calm and sobs to subside. This became harder and harder because, while the guilt he’d felt for worrying Mr. Stark to a point he lost control like that had started scratching at the wall in Peter’s mind that cut off the memory of his last mission, the way Mr. Stark’s friends was carefully not touching his face where the bandages covered it, knocked said wall down and Peter couldn’t do anything against the memories of the feeling of utter helplessness and panic he’d experienced when the doctor had attacked him which flooded back now.

There had been a good chance, he could have gotten himself killed or, at the very least outed as Spider-man and the more he thought about it, the more came back; how the alley they’d fought in had been too small for him to do anything once the ‘doctor’ had cornered him with his massive body, how his ugly, pockmarked face had been wet and shining with sweat and his pale, fat lips had curved around his yellow teeth as he’d sprayed Peter with the self-made acid and had laughed when he’d screamed in agony and had only had one thought left on his mind; somehow keep this man from leaving until Mr. Stark, anyone, came.

“Don’t fight it”, the god continued when he noticed this and, after a brief pause during which he started asking himself what exactly he was doing but eventually disregarded the question as usual, carefully slid his left arm under Peter’s shoulders and laid his other had down on his chest again before he tugged his upper body up into a half sitting position, angled it to face him and his arms to wrap around his neck and slung one arm around Peter’s middle to hug him close. His free hand first settled over the back of the boy’s head, then slid down to the nape of his neck and rubbed soothing circles and swirls into the warm skin while Peter lost it completely and blindly clung to his neck. Unbidden memories started surfacing in the back of the god’s mind, but he forced them back down for now and tried to ignore the hollow feeling that settled in the pit of his stomach. He refocused on Peter instead.

The hoodie he’d been wearing during his pursuit of the ‘doctor’ had taken about the amount of damage, one would expect form a piece of clothing that had been doused with acid and blood but that had not really mattered at that point. Once Peter’s injuries had been taken care of, the god had decided that he was fine in the t-shirt he’d been wearing underneath for now but had asked Jarvis to turn up the heating by a couple degrees and now, the god felt about three threadbare spots in the light blue fabric he absent-mindedly removed as he kept holding Peter close who, in his agitated state, kept choking out half formed apologies and accusations of what he’d done and predictions of what Mr. Stark would do once he’d come to again.

“That’s enough, Peter”, the god eventually whispered and Peter whom these three words had shocked into a pause expected to be pushed away. Instead of that, he felt the hold around him tighten as the soft voice went on; “no one is going sack you or make you stop working with the initiative; you were not prepared for once and things got out of hand. That’s unfortunate but not a tragedy, especially considering how everything has turned out: the ‘doctor’ is safely stored away in an underground cell, awaiting punishment and you are fine or as good as fine anyway. You scared a lot of people out of their minds, but you paid for your lack of vigilance and impulsivity and I’m sure that will never happen to you again am I right?”, he paused long enough for Peter, who absentmindedly noticed that long, silky hair was brushing against his face, to whisper, ‘not if I can help it’.

For the first time in ages he felt much younger than almost sixteen and just wanted someone to hold him and tell him that everything was going to be okay and before he could disown that wish, the other went on; “you see? Things turned out okay. It was a simple mistake, Peter, not a sign of incompetence or lack of skill on your part as much as inexperience and that will come with time, wouldn’t you agree? In the meantime, people and among them most certainly Anthony Stark, will probably rant at you about in how much danger you put yourself and how foolish it was, but they won’t put you down too much or be able to take your abilities from you”

By the time the god had finished, Peter had calmed down enough to stop crying, apart form an occasional hiccup or sniffle and Loki’s hand continued to smooth above his back in slow, wide circles. He had spoken rather more slowly than usual.

“That depends on your definition of ‘too much’”

Neither of them had noticed Tony Stark entering the room and leaning back against the door frame, not even Loki who’d had his concentration focused on nothing but Peter and now, for the first time in four years, jumped at the unexpected appearance of his lover, still hugging Peter close.

Tony looked almost completely normal in his dark jeans and faded Iron-Maiden-shirt, apart from the bags underneath his bloodshot eyes and the paleness of his skin.

“You should not be up yet, Anthony”, Loki chided next to the boy’s ear and made a gesture that seemed to say, ‘what was I supposed to do?’ when his lover pointedly looked at him holding Peter close and raised his eyebrows.

“I’m good as new”, Tony waved him off and mouthed ‘how are we supposed to get you out of here without him noticing now?’ afterwards.

“You on the other hand…”, he went on, trying to keep the smile that was fighting to form on his lips out of his voice when Loki seemed to pause, looked from him to Peter (who was slowly untangling himself form the god) and back again and gently touched the boy’s shoulders once he’d sat up, his face open and unsure as he answered Tony out loud: “Next time _you_ spent two days nursing you two morons back to health and we’ll see how you look”

That was about the best pretext for Tony to get him out of the room and that _had_ been the plan they’d agreed on; “you may want to lay down a little yourself first”, he tried to sound as natural as possible and didn’t take his eyes off the god.

“Alright”, Loki meant to make it sound like a snap or something but it still came out rather softly, betraying his unsureness; when he’d first sat down with Peter and patched him up, he and Tony had agreed that he’d leave as soon as possible, Loki had insisted on it in fact while his lover had, for an instance entertained the notion of introducing the two of them.

He and Peter had grown closer over the last months and neither was he able or willing to deny the fact, that he’d harbored a great deal of affection for the kid as time had flown by and he didn’t like the switch-around they currently played so Peter and Loki would not accidentally run into each other with Loki staying with him almost all the time. Apart form the fact that they had to keep their relationship quiet and private, Tony could not remember a time he had been happier, even with Pepper.

Anyway; now Tony Stark was watching his lover intensely, more specifically his face and the battle that was going on behind his dark green eyes until he seemed to come to a conclusion, which he did not look to happy about and carefully moved Peter’s knees off his legs to have room to get up.

“You’re leaving?”, Peter asked softly but still complied and allowed Loki to stir him to lean back against the pillows.

“You should be fine for now and if you listen to me”, he said the last part more loudly, obviously addressing both, the boy and his lover, “you should get some food and then try to sleep some more and not work yourself up right now”, he squeezed Peter’s hand reassuringly after he’d gotten to his feet and told his spouse, “Isn’t that right?” out loud and brushed, as unseen by Peter as everything, a kiss against his lips in passing, touching the tips of his fingers to his face.

“Anthony can help you with the bandages later”, he called over his shoulder.

Loki knew full well that Tony would end up lecturing Peter within the next couple of days and go on and on about how worried everyone had been about him and how irresponsible Peter had been and so on and so on.

He would definitely end up doing exactly that too but right now, making the boy feel guilty was about the last thing on the engineer’s mind, even if Peter felt sick to his stomach thinking about it as he waited for him to start talking.

To be fair, Loki found himself actually wanting to stay with them until Peter would doze off again and woke up completely recovered. The thought that he would neither get the chance to do that nor have the chance to properly, officially meet him again anytime soon without having disguised himself first - just as he had explicitly wanted, he reminded himself as he quietly pulled the door shut behind him, made for their front room and unceremoniously flopped down on the biggest couch, throwing his long legs over its back and starring upwards at the ceiling – left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Still, it was quite a shame; he had really started to like the boy within the last hours. The fact that the last hour particularly had stirred up some rather …touchy memories somewhat added to it, as the main reason he had finally decided to follow through with the original plan and flee the room had been that every time Loki had looked down at the boy as he’d attempted to comfort him, the faces of his own children had pushed himself into his minds eye. He had not seen them in so long…

The god sighed, and it sounded ever so loudly in the early hours of yet another cool autumn evening and felt his back melt against the smooth leather cushions and his head loll back against an armrest. He closed his eyes and, for the first time in almost two days, allowed himself to just let his mind wander. Just a little over an hour passed before he heard footsteps scuffing towards him and opened one eye to look up at Tony when he stepped up to the couch, grateful, if anything, for the distraction.

“Don’t give me that look; I was nice”, Tony told him as he strode towards the windows, which made up the whole wall of their living room and starred outside, “I’m not my-“

“I know”; Loki cut him off before the beginning of the word ‘father’ could form on his lover’s lips and opened his other eye as well, “everyone knows that, love”

“I just don’t understand how-”, he started, burying his face in his hands and scrubbing his palms over his face with a deep sigh and didn’t go on.

“What do you not understand?”

With an enormous mustering of will the god pushed himself up and dragged his feet over to Tony.

“How this happened for a start”, Tony sighed audibly, his shoulders sagging forward, and Loki caught him and held him upright, hugging him close and rubbing his slowly back, “he’s too smart to just forget his suit and everything somewhere – he’s never done it before anyway”

“Tony”, the god started and his spouse caught himself smiling because he didn’t say ‘Anthony’ for once, despite the knot in his stomach and the throbbing behind his temples that had appeared when Peter had sent out the distress call and had not disappeared ever since, “It was a simple mistake, a small one even if-“

“-if he almost got himself killed because of it?”

“Yes, but-“

“There’s no-“

“BUT”, Loki went on a little more loudly, “you are taking it out of proportion; a fifteen-year-old did not think to bring his armor on a five-minute-walk from his home to a shop. That’s what happened and now tell me what his grave mistake was”

“To then run after an armed lunatic who he knew was dangerous for example”

While Loki kept his voice even and calming, Tony’s steadily grew louder and faster.

“-and if you look really closely, I think you can spot the error here”; he added with a snap, still looking outside at the sea and sky rather than the god.

“And if you look at it really closely, can you seriously tell me, you would not have pursuit the man - especially because he was armed and out to make trouble, even without your suit?”

“I can hold my own against a fifty-year-old”, Tony grumbled but the point Loki was making hit too close to home for him to try and ignore. “Why exactly are you taking his side by the way?”, he added but wasn’t surprised when Loki ignored it and went on like he hadn’t said anything. Trying to understand why exactly Loki did what he did was a challenge on any day of the week and today Tony just couldn’t face it, so he let it slide. For the moment.

“And you really think, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t? Face it, love; it was bad luck and nothing more. You should be glad that he is okay now and not give him such a hard time, seeing that he already payed for his mistake and, if you ask me, that’s more than enough.”

 “I’ll give that suit a once-over though”, Tony said defiantly and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his lover felt that more than he saw it; “I don’t care what it takes but he’ll never end up hurt again because he didn’t have his suit”

“You do that”, Loki smiled and lowered his head to press his lips against his shoulder before adding: “Tomorrow”

“Sometimes”, Tony told him with mock-indignation in his voice, “sometimes I picture my life without you telling me what I can and can’t do, you know?”

“It must be a rather bleak picture then”

The god full-on grinned now and softly knocked his shoulder against his lover’s who slung his arm around him and held him there, “you know it, honey”

They continued to gaze out at the waves and wind spraying the lower areas of the glass with droplets of seawater until Loki quietly asked; “what else is on your mind? You would not be that serene if all were fine”

“I’m just thinking”

“I know, but you do quite a lot of that on a normal day and don not look so glum while you are at it”

“It’s just… Rhodey has a suit himself and regularly uses it for fights and attacks. The rest of the team has missions all the time where the chances that we’re making it out alright are sometimes so bad, Jarvis started a list and tells me how bad the last one was on that scale when I get back. Half of us got hurt so badly at some point, you were the only reason we made it and still nothing of that made me feel as anxious as that distress call from Peter and I still…”

 

\-------

 

Peter felt his face heat up as he tried to not make a sound where he stood in the doorframe of the living room and attempted to decide whether he shouldn’t just turn around and go back to the bedroom he’d woken up in. After Mr. Stark’s friend had left, Mr. Stark had helped him take off the bandages and the first thing, Peter had seen had been his face, which wasn’t as harassed looking as the time he’d found out that Peter had run into a burning building to rescue the elderly lady that lived there along with her seven fat cats (which he’d gotten out as well and that had probably been the reason Mr. Stark had been mad) but still borderline frantic. He had stayed sitting right next to him anyway.

“How you feeling, kid?”, he’d asked after he had not quite been able to keep himself from pulling Peter into a hug and had still not made a move to get off the edge of the bed, silently listening when Peter had said okay and that the main reason for that had probably been the other man who had left to go lay down.

All the while he’d been steeling himself for what Mr. Stark would tell him – that he’d been irresponsible and couldn’t possibly continue with his training and anything but nothing like that had come. When he had finally spoken, Mr. Stark’s voice had been strangely flat, and he had not said much more than that Peter had scared everyone who knew he worked with the avengers and that they’d have a real talk once Peter was fully rested. Peter couldn’t believe his luck because it didn’t sound like he’d get his head bitten off and kicked out after all and he promised at once to stay in bed and try to sleep a little more.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’ve come out of this okay”, Mr. Stark had told him before he’d left the room, laid his hand down on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed, “and I’m not going to deny that it was impressive work and I’m stupidly proud of you but I’m not going to kid you either; you can’t keep doing things like this and expect that you’ll always come out okay. You gave me about the shock of a life time and if it hadn’t been for him”, he’d indicated the direction in which his friend had left, “I’m not sure we’d even be having this conversation right now to tell you the truth. You have to understand that”

With that he’d left the room and Peter lay there for several minutes, unable to move with the impact the last sentence had left. He had seldom heard Mr. Stark speak so calmly and collectedly but he thought that his words could not have cut any deeper if he’d yelled at him.

Then, another thought crossed his mind; what exactly had they told May? And what was he supposed to tell her about how he’d spent the weekend and suddenly, without a word or anything allegedly left the city to go to a … what had it been?

“Jarvis?”, he’d asked, for the moment not caring how squeaky his voice had turned and asked whether Mr. Stark was still in the house. He didn’t think anything about the pause before the AI had answered with: “he’s currently in the lounge but you should not get up yet but tell me your concern and I’ll pass on his answer at once”

“No thank you”, Peter had said earnestly, he could just go and talk to Mr. Stark himself.

Five steps wouldn’t kill him, right? He was already feeling completely fine again, maybe a little hungry and worn out but that could wait, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else than what he was supposed to tell his aunt right now anyway, so why bother?

And Mr. Stark had not been hard to find either; Peter had been able to make out his voice as soon as he’d opened the door of the room and had heaved a sigh of relief when he noticed that his senses seemed to work properly again. So, he’d followed the voices, apparently the other man was still there as well and talking to Mr. Stark and Peter had not thought of anything apart form how he’d phrase his question and explain that he wouldn’t be able to do anything except worry with that on his mind. Then, he’d heard Mr. Stark’s last sentence.

Peter had known that he’d been worried but hearing it put like this…

He hovered at the threshold and his eyes landed on the pair standing close together in front of the glass wall opposite from the entrance of the room, debating whether he should draw attention to himself or just turn around and go back while Mr. Stark’s friend started speaking in a low voice again. Still not daring to move a muscle, Peter could only see their silhouettes form where he stood and all he could tell for sure was that the other man was a lot taller than Mr. Stark and very thin with long dark hair that reached a little past his shoulders in thick messy waves.

 

\-----------

 

“You stupid man”, Loki said softly and laid his hand against the side of his lover’s face who made an undignified sound – but more on principle than really meaning it as he left his arm slung around the god’s waist but turned his head to face Loki and meet his gaze, “you stupid, stupid man, what _am_ I going to do with you?”

Cool fingers stroked his cheek and touched the corner of his mouth and Tony closed his eyes, almost forgetting to feel attacked; “stop insulting me and open that pretty mouth of yours to tell me what you mean if it’s that obvious for example”

“Since you asked so nicely”, the god grinned, tapping the tip of his index finger against Tony’s cheekbone two times.

Tony’s own arms had closed around Loki’s middle and his hands absentmindedly played with the lacing on the back of is tunica, sighing as he breathed in the faint smell of pine-needles and winter air that belonged to Loki as much as his cool, pale skin and emerald green eyes. It felt beyond good to hold him close like this after the last two days and, just for the moment, let soft warm drowsiness wash over him and not have to worry about Peter being alright or concentrate on anything else than the slow rise and fall of Loki’s chest against his and the god’s soft touch.

He _had_ lain down earlier and even slept a little, but he had not drunk the sleeping drought Loki had made him, so his sleep had been uneasy, and fleeting and he’d jolted awake several times. The last time Jarvis had told him that Peter was awake.

“People never stop worrying about their children, no matter what and with everything that has happened within the last days it is only natural that you are still worked up”, Loki murmured, leaning forward to kiss him before he sadly added: “I should know” but that got lost in the start of Tony’s retort and the sound of Peter, who instead of silently retreating to the bedroom had not noticed the dark shelfs that lined one side of the hallway and had knocked against the edge of one of them on his way back with full force and now found himself on the floor.

He winced quietly as he felt over the area where he’d collided with the piece of furniture and wondered whether it would leave a bruise, which would be kind of ironic, all things considered. The next moment however, Loki and Tony were at either side of him and Tony immediately started asking whether he was okay and berating him for getting out of bed two minutes after he’d told him to stay put while the god carefully felt over his shoulder and chest until he eventually declared that he had not gotten seriously hurt. They still stirred Peter over to the couch Loki had sprawled over earlier and sat down on either side of him again.

“What. He’s seen me now anyway”, the god shrugged at Tony’s incredulous look when he crossed his legs underneath himself and obviously settled in comfortably to stay some time.

He glared at the god past Peter and had just opened his mouth when Peter started to ask Loki: “aren’t you…”

“Kid”, he tried to interrupt but Loki didn’t look mad yet and encouraged Peter to go on and ignore Tony.

“…supposed to be on Asgard?”

“I thought you told people that I got killed after the New-York-thing?”, Loki raised an eyebrow at Tony who slowly answered; “The official press notice was that you’d ‘await justice’ there”

“Yes but I overheard Thor talk to Dr. Banner about you so I figured, you’d live there now and read some of the files Black Widow leaked last year-“

Tony shot him a look before exchanging a long gaze with Loki who was biting down hard on his bottom lip and looked like he was about to burst into laughter, largely because he’d rather laugh than sink into that hollow sad feeling that often overtook him whilst thinking about any part of his family. He redoubled his efforts of pushing the thought away while Tony went on:

“And that’s all you have to say about this?”

Tony couldn’t believe his ears, but Peter turned to the god for a second, then back to him and shrugged; “yeah”

Beside him, Loki started chuckling and his laughter increased in volume when he looked at Tony and the utterly bewildered look on his face, tossing back his head and long black curls.

Tony on the other hand watched Peter as he turned towards Loki again and starred at him, not that Tony could blame him; the god was beyond gorgeous on a normal day but when he actually laughed like this, you almost couldn’t take in the sight without losing yourself a little bit.

“And you don’t mind the whole trying-to-take-over-earth-thing?”, he eventually asked albeit weakly and the kid snapped out of it and looked away from the god’s straight white teeth and bright, almost closed eyes as he ignored the last sentence.

“Records said he was compromised so I didn’t bother thinking much more about it then and he… was nice earlier”, he shrugged again, kind of distractedly as it seemed. Beside him, Loki’s laughter slowly ebbed away, and he wiped tears out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t entirely sure if they’d appeared there because of his laughter or else but it did distract him from feeling miffed at being talked about in third person.

“You have no idea how long we spent trying to work out a way to tell you about us, so I wouldn’t have to run off every time you came over”, he told Peter as an explanation and Peter smiled sheepishly, a faint blush still coloring the bases of his cheeks as he looked at him; “oh”

“I can’t believe this”, Tony shook his head, got to his feet and walked over to the windows again, “why do I even bother with you two?”

“Because you love us”, Loki had barely called the words into his spouse’s direction before he turned to Peter again and asked about the records he’d mentioned; “I never actually read them; do they say anything else than ‘compromised’?”

“Not really; there’s only a short paragraph at the end where they say that that’s why you worked with the Chitauri… can I ask-“

“I was not in a very good place when that happened”, Loki interrupted in a soft voice, his whole demeanor changed from amused to kind of solemn despite himself; “I’m sure Thor told you about our fight before I fell off the Bifrost, yes?”

Peter nodded, and Loki went on about how he’d eventually found himself on the Chitauri’s home planet, they’d locked what was left of him up in a dungeon until they’d eventually… _persuaded_ him - and at this Tony returned to the couch, sat down next to the god, wrapped an arm around Loki’s waist and pulled him close again - to help them with their mission. Thanos had told them about the tesseract and what they ought to do with it and given them the scepter which twisted everyone who held it to behave according to their darkest desires and whims and corrupted its bearer until only a dark twisted version of them remained. In that case, it had been Loki who had worked with the Chituari and their master and only after the scepter had been taken away from him did he return to his senses.

“Thor and Anthony noticed the change that went about me and arranged for my return to Asgard where I recovered and afterwards…”; he looked at Tony and smiled softy as he closed his hands around his, “I did remember one peculiar Midgardian I wanted to tell that whole story to and maybe more”

If Peter had not been with them, the conversation would probably have stopped right there but as he was, Tony settled for pressing his lips against the side of Loki’s face who softly touched his hair.

“You shouldn’t go about telling everybody though”, he told the kid with a wry grin,” most people wouldn’t like to know that he’s still here and that I’ve been – what did Fury call it? – fraternizing with the enemy for about four years now.”

“I won’t”, Peter said quickly, looking from one to the other, “swear, I won’t”

“Lovely”, Loki smiled at him, “now that that’s settled; you must be famished, Peter, aren’t you?”

The question was utterly obsolete as Peter’s stomach had already growled several times while Loki had talked. Still, he nodded, and Loki’s smile widened, only partly because he didn’t exactly fancy discussing the topic any further; “what would you like for – Anthony, is there a Midgardian term I’m not aware of that describes having five meals in one go?”

“Force-feeding”, Tony did away with the mock innocent tone he’d used when Loki nudged him with his elbow. Loki had rather pointy elbows.

He also decided to keep up the god’s slightly too cheery attitude and not say anything about it just now; it was already short of a miracle that the god was in a rather good mood all things considered and got on with Peter, even bothered to put on a too bright smile for and chitchat with him.

“I’m not picky”, Peter crossed his arms in front of his stomach, “whatever you want or is easiest to make”

Before he’d finished speaking, Tony had taken out his phone, swiped his fingers over the display a couple of times and had pocketed it again; “I’m not going to kid you; I’m too tired to cook, Loki hasn’t slept in about 50 hours and you seriously don’t want to tray and eat something he’s made when he’s dead on is feet and- ow”, it seemed that nudging his lover would not have been enough this time so Loki slapped his chest, albeit softly, “well it’s true, I, for once, distinctly remember your take on goulash that one time - and you are not going to get off this couch for the rest of the day, got it?”, the last part had been directed at Peter.

“Fine by me”, Peter managed, trying not to get lost with everything he’d been told since he’d sat down, “it’s just that-“

“I should have known”, Tony groaned, and Loki grinned; “what is it?”

“I wanted to ask what exactly you told my aunt and what I’m going to-“

“I made you a list of thigs we saw at the convention and people we talked to and what about”, Tony assured him as he got to his feet and gestured for Peter to lay back against the arm rest, Loki was not curling up, “I’ll talk you through it later”

The rest of the evening went by in a blur as Loki told Peter about the things he got up to when Tony was away on a mission and his life and childhood on Asgard with Thor. Peter, in turn, talked about his school- and every-day-life with aunt May which Loki found fascinating. All the while, Tony Stark could just sit beside them and watch, quietly asking himself how exactly the whole situation had turned out like this and simultaneously not being able to believe his luck that it had while they ate their way through about a ton of Thai-food and pizza. The amount of food that vanished off Peter’s and Loki’s plates would have put Thor to shame.

Finally, Peter fell asleep in the middle of Loki’s rather dramatic recollection of the time Thor had lost his hammer and they’d retrieved it and Tony finally got up and offered his hand to the god to haul him to his feet;

“Come on, you must be dead tired by now, aren’t you?”

“I think, I passed that stage about three hours ago”, big, big eyes with even huger pupils looked up at Tony but Loki accepted his hand and followed him out of the room Tony had placed several blankets and quilts over Peter and tugged them up to his chin. When they finally reached their bedroom, he let himself fall face first onto the bed, his tunica vanishing before he even touched the mattress and felt the dark silk sheets against his skin.

“Loki?”, Tony asked softy after he’d finished pulling off his own clothes, crawled under the sheets and had manhandled the god to curl up against him with his head resting on his chest and his arm splayed across his stomach.

“Hm?”, came the soft reply but it didn’t sound as dead on its feet as it might have done.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Huh?”, this time it sounded more timid than puzzled.

“Come on, I know you better than that”

“It’s just…” , Loki’s hair spread further across his lover’s upper chest when he heaved a sigh and blew them away from his face and lips, “he reminded me of Sleipnir earlier, before you came. I haven’t seen him or Hela, Fenris and Jörmungandr in such a long time”

Before he and Tony had gotten together, Loki had told him about his children and the situation his family was in. It went somewhat like this; after he’d had Sleipnir, Loki had had two options; either he did what Odin had told him and give his son to him to live amongst the rest of Asgard’s steeds or charm a second fowl to look like his baby (when he was in his animalistic form) and somehow manage to hide him away, safe and secure.

Few people knew that, between the main worlds and planets, there were also countless small inter-worlds, more like bubbles or folds in the fabric of the universe, some not much bigger than Australia, which were completely shut off and secluded from the rest of the universe. Loki on the other hand had come across a few of them as he’d grown up.

What he’d done was this; he’d chosen the most remote bubble and travelled there with Sleipnir without telling anyone, leaving the disguised fowl behind on his home planet along with a short letter, seemingly explaining his absence. He’d stayed with the small child for as long as he could, all the while casting spell after spell onto the bubble’s shell to shield it against attacks and discovery and also one that slowed time down to a crawl while he wasn’t on it so Sleipnir was never alone for more than a couple of hours at a time, however long it took Loki to find an opportunity to get back to him. It worked the other way around as well and sped up the time passing there compared to the passage of time within the rest of the universe, so however long the god spent with Sleipnir, only a fraction of the time that had passed there had passed for the rest of creation. The place was as beautiful as one could hope for; never-ending green meadows and forests that in places gave way to seas and rivers, small and gentle animals and beautiful fauna.

As the years went on, Sleipnir was never alone again as his siblings came to stay with him but their growing up was still slowed down to a crawl while they were on their own and they never were without Loki for more than a handful of days at a time as they grew up. Loki just hadn’t been able to bring himself to change that while they’d been little; no matter what happened, his children had been safe there, had had everything they needed and had never felt out of place or unwanted despite the fact that Loki had not managed to find a place within the rest of the universe where they could live among others in peace until they’d become old enough to control their powers and switch from one form into the other at will.

His sons had taken to travelling the worlds and gather knowledge, never staying anywhere longer than they actually wanted to and Hela had eventually grown tired of trying to fit in without permanently disguising her true appearance and had relocated herself to Helheim where she ruled over the dead and lived in peace – people had proven themselves to be able to accept about anything, but a woman whose one side looked more beautiful than anyone who had not seen her yet could imagine and other side looked dead and wilted apparently exceeded that. When she’d told her father about her plans for Helheim, he had promised her to all the help and support she would ever need and encouraged her to do what made her happy, no matter what others thought.

Loki could not have been prouder of any of them, which he was reminded of forcefully every time he received a message or letter from one of them, usually when they moved or decided to travel on or things in Helheim calmed down enough for Hela to find the time and write him. It had been years since the last time he’d seen any of them in person and even longer since they’d all been in the same place.

“Maybe we should visit them sometime soon”, Tony suggested carefully and didn’t avert his gaze from the god when he pushed himself up to look him in the eye, “I mean, I’d like to meet them if you think that’s…”, he trailed of.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course”, Tony decided against a smart retort at the hopeful, yet apprehensive look on Loki’s face and he didn’t have much more time to add anything else because his lover stretched up to kiss him, closed one hand over his hip and tangled the other one in his short brown hair.

“Thank you”, he finally whispered against Tony’s lips and laid back down, nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck.

“Go to sleep, honey”

One of these days, Tony would manage to make the god understand that he didn’t have to thank him for showing the barest minimum of decency he could expect form his significant other.

 _One of these days_ , he thought as he pressed his lips against his forehead and hugged him close while Loki finally stopped fighting the tiredness that had threatened to overtake him for two days and dozed off. Even asleep he looked happier than he’d done in a long time and still more beautiful since he wasn’t pretending.

\--------

When Peter woke up the next morning, snuggled into soft leather cushions and a couple more blankets than he remembered from before he’d fallen asleep, he wasn’t quite sure, whether he was remembering the last evening properly. It’s a cliché but what are the actual chances of meeting Mr. Stark’s boyfriend who just happened to be the god of mischief who’d lead an alien invasion on New York a couple of years back?

 _Higher than I would’ve thought, apparently_. Peter didn’t say that out loud but lifted his head the tiniest bit when two voices sounded over from the kitchen area, almost inaudible but Peter finally, heard, saw, smelt and felt properly again. He lowered his head again anyway and buried his nose in the pillows.

Tony Stark was doing his best to prepare breakfast – or rather brunch - as quietly as possible but every move he made, be it taking a bowl, spoons and pans from their respective shelves and drawers or measuring and mixing the ingredients and pouring the batter in the already sizzling waffle iron, seemed to echo unnaturally loudly in the huge room. Maybe it wasn’t quite used to host _such a_ domestic scene with someone other than the couple present. It didn’t help, that Loki was sitting cross-legged on the countertop, huge, dark circles underneath his eyes and cheeks still rather hollow and laughing at him every time Tony winced at a particularly loud sound.

At first, Tony had wanted to tell him to shut up, but Loki was wearing the first pair of pajama-pants and t-shirt he’d stolen from his lover and a long, flowing dressing gown with a floral pattern, which actually reached further down his legs than the pants. Its hem brushed against his ankles when he walked. His lids were still so heavy, that only the thinnest sliver of emerald green was visible between them.

Consequently, Tony couldn’t bring himself to do more than try and shush him over his shoulder and every time he turned and looked at his lover, he found himself grinning back stupidly. The fact that he was still feeling rather guilty that he was kind of responsible for Loki being that worn out added to it and he, once again, marveled at the warm fuzzy feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach years ago and flared up from time to time like it did now when he watched Loki. Finally, he balanced the last steaming waffle on the already precariously high mountain on the big plate and carried it past the god towards the table Loki had set earlier with a lazy wave of his hand.

“C’mere your highness”, he went back and pulled Loki first to his feet, then over to his favorite chair and continued into the living room.

“Peter?”, he asked from the foot of the couch, “you want to have breakfast with us? And before you answer, the correct answer is yes because you won’t leave here with an empty stomach”

“Okay”, Peter rolled off the cushions and trailed after him, raking his fingers backwards through his bedhead and taking the seat opposite Loki who smiled blearily at him over the rim of his mug before he took a sip of the still steaming, heavily sweetened tea. He looked more worn out than the day before, but he was positively beaming about something, Peter didn’t quite dare to ask about.

“Morning”, he said softly as he took the plate Tony was offering him. A plate that weighed approximately as much as Peter and which was completely obscured by heaps of scrambled eggs, toast, waffles and bacon.

“You’ll get an answer out of him in about an hour”, Tony nodded towards the god who stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and halfheartedly glared at his lover when he spoke and blew him a kiss over the table. Peter suddenly lost interest in anything that wasn’t the food or glass of orange juice in front of him until Mr. Stark asked him whether Peter had anything coming up the following week.

Loki on the other hand continued sipping his tea and quietly listening to the conversation, a faint smile never really leaving his thin lips and tired eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I just thought that a universe untouched by the events of 'Infinity war' would be nice so here you have some happy frostiron and Loki meeting(adopting) Peter.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
